• I think I have an ear infection OWWW
  • Brandon started the day by promptly ripping something from his brothers hands
  • He's now taken about 75 things from him in an hour
  • Last night at Robs softball game I had to run out onto the field and coerce my child to come out of left field because he thought it was funny to run out and mess up the game
  • Brandon just said something and my response was to say, "Please????" His response instead of saying please for what he wanted was to say, "stop yelling to me."
  • Every morning he gets up to the kitchen table, sits down ready to eat and then promptly jumps up and realizes OH SHIT I HAVE TO PEE! I wonder when he will think to pee first
  • Codi just crawled across the room, pulled up on the TV stand, turned around smiled at me with his tongue out, and promptly made a squirting noise from his butt. The kind of noise that only happens when my husband isn't home
  • The squirting just turned into a sort of gurgling noise and now I'm am actually afraid.
  • And now I have to end the post because the other one is in the bathroom screaming MOMMY COME WIPE MY BUTT
  • So who do I get first, the one with poop in the toilet or the one with poop in his butt
  • The life choices us mommies have to make huh!



Gone ahead and put music back on. Beware if your working to turn your volume down. Or just fuck it AND ROCK ON!

Acecepting who I am

When I started this blog I had no idea what blogging really was. I was a new young mom and I had a lot of things to talk about. Questions, antidotes and humorous mommy things to discuss. Before I knew it, I woke up and found myself a "mommy blogger." For a long time I delighted in being a "mommy blogger." I was good at it, possibly because my child seems to be more monsterous then most of yours but also because I have no qualms about embarrassing myself. I enjoyed being a "mommy blogger (oh fuck it I'm already sick of using quotes) mostly because I loved reading comments that I wasn't alone. In real life face to face women often find it hard to admit their child isn't perfect. They find it hard to say,
"you know, I'm really having a bad day today. My son poured pink robitussin all over my $150.00 bed sheet then sopped it up with tissue which he stuck to the walls and dresser, then poured it all over my earplugs and carpet. While I was cleaning that up my son pulled all his coats off his wall, buried his brother, tipped over his chairs, threw his socks at the fan and filled a bucket with water and poured it over him and his brother. While I cleaned that he dumped cheetos all over the table then poured milk over them in an attempt to clean it up. After all that I was minding my own business brushing my teeth when I turned around to see my son opening up all my girl products and sticking them all over the walls, the toilet AND HIS BROTHER. He then opened a crest white strip I didnt even know I had and ate it."**

You never hear that in real life. You also don't hear about how some moms lose it. They yell, they get mad, they say angry things and put their kid in time out. But, you come here, to the blog world and you find clarity. You see your not alone and it's relaxing and refreshing and fucking relieving.

After a while I started reading negative things about mommy bloggers. Mommy blogger became a stigma. It was like a disease. I noticed people saying, "oh don't read them, they are just mommy bloggers." So I shied away. I backed down from the mommy gig and made it more about me. I stopped posting as often because with out my kids, I'm really nothing. I started fearing people would peg me for a mommy blogger and stop reading me. At the same time I noticed my comments winding down. My friends, my blogger buddies were moms. I suspect I became someone they could no longer relate to. I think I got caught up wanting to please asshole people out there who have something against being a mom and being a blogger. Those people who are to selfish to have kids and appreciate the humor in a good poop story. People who think they are above the rest of us because they write about bigger better more important things like sex drugs and rock n roll.

Shit, my version of sex is cramming it in when the baby sleeps, or figuring out where and how to do it while the baby sleeps in the center of my bed. My version of drugs is a good stiff one a day followed with a Vitamin C chaser. My version of Rock N Roll is viewed daily on my Yahoo messenger by my friends, just ask how often I get laughed at for blasting "the wheels on the bus at work."

So what. I'm a geek. I'm a mom. I have tissue, and wipes, and a dirty diaper in my purse.

I AM A MOM!!!!!! I'm sick of conforming to what people want me to be. I'm tired of being embarrassed of who I am. I'm a mom. My kids do stupid shit daily. I fuck up as a parent daily. I take really cute pictures of my boys. I AM A MOM!

I've been holding back great pictures of the boys, for fear that people would click away because I was deemed a mommy blog. I've held back hysterical stories about poop, and about daycare, and boogers, and POOP for fear that people would remove me from their blog roll because I was a lowly mommy blogger.

But no more. The photos are returning. The tales of how misguided I am are coming back. The stories about how much I struggle with being a good mom will return. The antics of all the poop and boogers and vomit shall come back with a vengeance.

I know my audience. I know my friends. I know who out there has my back. If you don't want to read me because I"m a mommy blogger THEN GO THE FUCK AWAY AND STOP READING.

I am a mommy blogger HEAR ME ROAR!

**This was my morning this morning


What I'm wearing and, the walky walker

I'm totally amused that I'm wearing very expensive Lucky Jeans, with very cheap Payless shoes.

Pay not mind to my fat sausage toes...or the smiley baby under me. Speaking of baby, look who is walking using his pushy mabob

He gets really crazy in his walker. He runs and goes backwards and chases you. He's loving his little push cart though.


Note to self

Do not wear a white shirt to work if you plan to give your child a tiny popcicle!

I found these at the store last night. They are maybe two inches big. I picked them up because 3 of them are only 45 calories and I thought it would be a fun work treat. Then I thought they would be perfect size for Codi. He loved them and I think they helped his teething!

What we will now refer to as "THE WALK OF DEATH!"

Earlier last week Ginger and I were talking about this weekend.  We had plans to go shopping for Rob and Brandon's birthday parties. (Side note we got cool shit for Robs party, and I'm dying to post pictures already).  She had mentioned that she wouldn't be able to go until 10:00 because she had to walk her dog.  Friday night I get the bright idea to tell her I'll go on the walk with her.  She mentions she is going to walk the hill at the park.  I said sure okay I'll just throw Codi in the Jeep stroller and it will be fun.  

Saturday morning Ginger calls me and tells me that shes on her way.  Rob is still sleeping and now I realize I have to take both boys.  So I stick Codi in the Moby and Brandon in the stroller and set off to the park.  

Then I see the hill.  One look at it and I'm already tired.  In fact looking at it felt like a work out.  Ginger asks if I want her to take the stroller since I already have an extra 17 pounds strapped to me.  I'm like, "noooooo I can handle this."  So off we go.  Two and a half feet into the hill my ass starts screaming at me to turn back now.  7 feet into the hill my arms begin to cry and threaten decapitation if I don't turn back.  

Finally we got up the hill and I breathed.  Then I looked up and saw a second big fucking hill.  Ginger, trying to be helpful said that if I wanted we could go to the left which was a smaller hill instead of going up the very. steep. other. hill!  My reply was, "dude, how will I live with myself if I pick the easy route?"  She was like, "Shannon come on you have two kids and at least 50 lbs of extra weight, it is fine to pick the smaller hill."  

Alas, the stubborn side of me came out and after initially heading towards wussy hill I turned around and said, "FUCK IT we are going up the DEATH HILL."  And off we went.  I would be lying if I didn't say that I had to stop a couple times because that shit was hard.  However as soon as I made it to the top of the hill Brandon decided he wanted out of the stroller.  Little shit!  I took Codi out of the Moby and plopped him into the stroller and Brandon happily chased Gingers dog around the trails.  

At this point we ran into this lady who came chasing after us asking Ginger to put her dog on the leash because they had a "reactionary dog."  She then went on to say, "it's not a mean dog, just protective and reactionary."  We put Gingers dog on the leash and then saw this lady running about a half mile back to her husband and dog and realized we had some time so we took the dog back off the leash.  A little while later they catch us and Ginger is leashing her dog again.  The husband comes up to me and starts prattling on about how leashes are laws and we should have our dog on a leash at all times.  As he is doing this his, "nice, only reactionary dog" is muzzled and jumping about growling and foaming at the mouth.  Picture the dog in the movie KUJO only fluffier and scarier.  I get pissed off and say, "maybe a dog like that doesn't belong on a hill like this."  After all there are tons of kids and runners around and it doesn't seem safe.  The guy totally loses his shit and starts screaming at me, at which point the tired, sore, angry part of me comes out and I said, "you know what, the dog is leashed how about you keep walking and just shut up." (I only ONLY say shut up if I'm mad, and the fact that this guy just came up yelling about laws and shit when we were clearly leashing the dog and moving really really made me angry."  So the he retorts, "give me your name I'm reporting you to the cops."  To which I just laugh and said, "honey I have kids not dogs I'm not doing shit wrong so get the fuck out of my face!"  So he moves on to Ginger who is standing 5 feet up the side of the hill off the trail to make room for these people and their dog with her dog leashed and he demands her name and address to report her.  Ginger was like yeah not happing buddy.  To which he starts hollering at me again and I respond with a very mature LALALALALALA I CAN'T HEAR YOU!  I start waving him away with my hand and declare that I am done with this, I don't have anything more to say.  Their dog is still going ape shit and trying to tear Ginger apart and I finally just say, "thats one really nice dog you have there, be one your way now."  I was done.  They then start yelling at another runner whose dog is off the leash.  She's like I have a virtual leash IT'S CALLED MY VOICE!  She was pissed.  Here are two people with two great dogs, on DOG WALKING TRAIL and these people come along with their KUJO scary mother fucker dog and expect us to just bow down to them.  We spent the rest of the walk with Gingers dog on a stupid leash lamenting about how annoying it is that people like that take a dog for a walk on a mountain meant for other dogs.  To me it seems that if their dog is always that awful they would walk him somewhere with out other dogs around, like, I dunno THEIR OWN BACK YARD!

After all the dog chaos my muscles were starting to relax and I was recovering from death hill when suddenly Brandon decides he is now to tired to walk.  Unfortunately Codi is passed out in the stroller and I'm not moving him.  Brandon tries various methods of riding on the stroller even trying to fit into the basket of the stroller.  Finally he decides he wants to sit on my shoulders.  So!  I now have about 27ish pounds in stroller weight (assuming my big ass stroller only weighs about 10 pounds) and a 30 lb child on my shoulders  and we are approaching the second hill.  Once again I think I am going to die.  

800 miles later Brandon gets excited at the option of the park at the bottom and decides to walk.  Ginger, wanting to make him go faster offers to race him.  The next thing I know they are taking off running, and, not wanting to be left 20 feet behind I have no choice but to start running UP HILL WITH A STROLLER!  

We completed the walk and I decided after that, that I had just completed my exercise quota for the next 17 years!  However, I also decided that if I just walked up that hill pushing a stroller with 50 lbs in it once a day (just up the hill not around) I would probably look like a body builder in less then like ooo 2 weeks.  Seriously Sunday when I woke up my upper and lower arms hurt.  My calves hurt.  My thighs hurt.  My ass hurt and even my abs felt worked out.  I am actually thinking of trying to push the stroller up the BIG MASSIVE FUCK ME I'M GOING TO DIE part of the hill daily just to see what it does to me.  

However the entire walk took us 2 hours and I don't have two hours.  I think if I got a double jogging stroller I would be fine but the whole carrying one kid on my shoulders thing SO NEVER HAPPENING AGAIN!


I guess size really does matter

I've been taking a break from my diet this past month. Basically for the month of July I kind of just took some time to myself. And by that I mean I was hiding in a corner with some cheesecake and a fork. Oh, who am I kidding, I didn't even need the fork.

Even though I spent the better part of a month eating my way across town via pasta and desert I still basically maintained my weight. This week however I'm losing again, and all this losing weight is reminding me of one of my least favorite weight loss side effects.


I know your like wow, I can't believe shes complaining about that. But seriously, when your walking through the store and your pants are falling down because they are too big and your underwear have ridden all the way up to your shoulders because even they are too big, well it gets a little annoying.

I only wish I had taken a picture. Yesterday I'm walking through Whole Foods. I have these really cute brand new capris on. As I'm walking I'm laughing because it would appear I don't know my size anymore. So even though I just bought these and I tried them on they were way to big and now I look like a jack ass hiking my pants back up every 14 steps.

However, about 6 minutes into the shopping trip I realize I've got a bigger problem. I'm wearing these really cute lacy HOT PINK boy shorts. Maybe if I wore thongs this wouldn't be a problem (I tried that this weekend and lets just say the 49859er times I pulled my thong out of my asscrack in a public place makes thongs not worth it). So I'm walking through the store pulling up my pants when I notice an extra little fabric there. It seems my undies are about a size and a half too big now. So instead of just falling down and bearing my ass like the pants they decided to just ride up OVER THE WAIST BAND OF MY PANTS.

Visualize a lacy pink muffin top, only there was no fat in this muffin top, nope, just HOT PINK LACY UNDIES. I spent the rest of the shopping trip walking around simultaneously trying to pull up my pants and shove down my undies. My favorite part of the whole trip was when I had an itch just above my belly button so I kind of lifted my shirt and itched allowing the whole store to see my ass crack though my jacked up lacy panties.

Actually my favorite part was when some random guy walked by me, looked at me checking my grocery list on my phone then smiled and shouted IPHONE YEAH! And then just walked off. Thats exactly how I feel about my phone, like I should cheer every time I see it!

The night continued on with me waking up at 2am to pull the fucking underwear off and fumble around in the dark to pull out my smallest tightest undies because the other ones were so big they were sliding off in my sleep.

This problem with wrong size clothes has been a reoccurring theme in my life lately. Like yesterday when I woke up totally stoked to wear my new dress to work. Then I put it on and realized that NO, I am not in fact a large anymore. Shit. I just got used to being a large from being an extra large and now I'm expected to get used to being a medium. This is a lot for my brain. Or how all of my bras right now sink in on themselves because they are too big. So I went and bought a new bra in a 38 C only to find out a 38 is too big and I'm now closer to a 36D. Yeah, the C cup wasn't happening, these girls will never be a C cup.

Other things that you wouldn't think of. My sunglasses don't fit anymore because they are too stretched out. I guess my head was fat like Barry Bonds before (don't yell I love me some Bonds but damn his head got fat!). This also means none of my cute head bands fit. My hates are all stretched and so on. You know, I always knew my cheeks and neck were getting fat, and I saw the three chins, I guess I just never realized my whole head was fat.

I've had to tighten my bracelets. My wedding ring hardly stays on anymore. In fact it really only fits if I stick it on the bigger finger right next to it. Then I look at that bigger finger and think damn my fingers were fat.

I'm not used to my new size. I am for sure not used to the shopping part. I bought pants in a 13 Juniors. They seemed to fit in the dressing room, but now they don't. I can't imaging that I could be an 11 in the juniors section. I tried on some 10s in a different brand in the juniors and they fit too. I stood there in the dressing room thinking, "something has to be wrong here, I haven't been a ten in like 800 years."

I wish I could get used to this though. It would save me a lot of time in the fucking dressing room not having to go exchange for smaller sizes. I have two final goals. Buy a pair of Seven Jeans, and buy a pair of Lucky Lil Maggie Jeans.

I've been pretty strict on my diet lately and I plan to stick to it. I have two great motivators. One, my mother in law will be in town in one week for Brandons birthday. You gotta look good for the mother in law. But two on August 30th I am throwing one of the biggest 30th birthday bashes for my husband EVER. The thing is, the theme is WIFE BEATER. Everyone has to wear wife beaters. All my skinny little girl friends are already planning to rip theirs and tie them up with skanky red bras and what not and I'm thinking fuck I wanna look good in my wife beater too. Soooo mama is back to strict so I can rock my Lucky jeans, wife beater and a causally sexy HOT PINK BRA!

On that note, I can't wait until his birthday is here. I've got so many goddamn secret things planned and I'm just busting at the seams. I can't wait to finally be able to talk about all the shit I have in store for him. If you know me, you know I don't do secrets and surprises well so it is just about killing me not to just unload every little detail on ya'll. Just ask my good friend Stephanie how well I do when it comes to HUGE GIANT GREAT NEWS SECRETS! But seriously, it's going to be good!

Okay I'm out. Gotta go put on my dress that fits after I had to waste the gas to exchange the fucker.


Now with photos

I posted a full photo update on the mold. And the new floor damage. And. THE MOLD!
It never fucking ends!



Tomorrow morning (around 10am) I will be posting new pictures of the house. They ripped out the master bathroom floor and found MOLD. LOTS. OF. BLACK. MOLD. Stay tuned.



We were at the store. He told me he was hungry. This is what he picked.


I have updated the Clusterfuck house website the link can be found above

Where have you been?

In a nut shell I've been here, guzzling Robitussin straight from the bottle. I'm hardcore fool! I've been six since three years ago, I mean like a week ago but fuck it feels like forever. You know, I think there should be a rule that moms can't get sick! Because moms don't ever get to stop. Lets say I take the day off work for being sick, fine, but I'm still being a mom to Codi right? It's not fair. Moms should only be able to get sick when their kids are old enough to both go to school so if she takes a day off she can just sleep and eat ice cream all day and not change poopy diapers and what not.

On another note. I didn't get any sort of sleep Sunday night because I was consumed with a wet spot in my bed. It was up near my shoulder so it wasn't pee, it wasn't baby pee, it wasn't breast milk because my shirt was dry, it was to low to be drool WHAT IN THE FUCK WAS IT?

Last night I knew what it was. Codi was coughing so hard he puked. On me. And my bed. But. Not on himself. I was so fucking tired I threw a blanket over it and called it good. This morning, I'm thinking maybe I should go do something about that mess.

I went out for my cousins birthday. I wore a dress. And mascara. And jewelry. And now I think I need to sit down and breath because I just had heart palpitations thinking of the abnormality of it all. We went to dinner at Dolce. It was mediocre. The highlight of the night was the Parmesan potatoes. They were a layer of potatoes, topped with a great pesto, the topped with a Parmesan crispy thing. Layer and repeat. The rest of the meal was, mehh. The tomatoes were not as fresh as I'm used to, the balsamic on the capresé was, old tasting and the Primevera pasta tasted like old rotting mushrooms. You know how mushrooms start to taste fishy when they are too old. I was actually disappointed because the menu had great promise. I would maybe go back, and just eat mashed potatoes all night.

Later that night we went to the club and the guys met us there. Lisa's husband knows I don't drink so when he went to the bar to buy drinks for all the girls he bought me a diet coke. It was actually really nice because most people just forget about me all together and I end up waiting back in line to buy my non alcoholic beverage. Either way, it was really nice that he grabbed me something and I didn't even ask. Us girls were dressed pretty cute. You know, ever since I lost all this wait I have this sick desire to run into just one of my ex boyfriends. Last time they all saw me I was nearing 205 pounds and pretty fucking ugly. Dammit, why can't I bump into just one of them now that I'm thin again? I've lived in this town a long fucking time how do I go to the club and not see a single guy I used to know so I could make him swoon.

I did run into my friend Sharilee. It was actually kind of funny because I only noticed her because I was busy checking her out. My husband and I were talking about how great that girl was dancing and I was all, "psssh forget the dancing look at her ass." Suddenly my husband was like, "uuuuh isn't that your friend?" It was! After seeing her dance I immediately made a vow to go no where near the dance floor that night as to not embarrass myself. When I used to drink I didn't have any rhythm, BUT I THOUGHT I DID. Now that I don't drink I'm hyper aware of my lack of rhythm and my ummm non lack of cottage cheese thighs. So, if you see me at the club I'm probably standing waaaaaay over there, looking like I'm way to cool for the club. In reality though, the club with its tiny skirts and tiny asses, and good dancers is way to cool for Shannon!

Le dress, with mascara, and jewelry, and tan line!


I call it jiggly leg baby

I was doing laundry and turned around to find him doing this. He figured it out all one his own.
Codi tries to walk from wilddreemer on Vimeo.


Theres a hole in my heart

Come on over to see the newest holes in my new house!

Holding down the fort

I haven't been around much, I know. But damn have we been busy. The house remodel is sucking the life out of us, and I'm not even doing anything. Rob has been working there late meaning I make dinner later, and our schedule is just generally out of wack. I think the hardest part is just holding down the fort by myself. Dishes, and cleaning, and laundry, and kids, and snot, and more snot and oh hey did I tell you about the SNOT? Most of this is stuff I normally do, but I normally do it with an extra pair of hands to hold a kid or two. And honestly the kids probably wouldn't even be a problem if they weren't both sick. Also, if I wasn't sick. And also if there wasn't so much fucking SNOT! Everywhere I turn there is a fucking booger, and half of them are mine.

I have always appreciated my husband but man, these last few weeks with him gone I sure do appreciate him more. But, on the flip side I'm over the moon about him remodeling this house. I always secretly wanted a handy husband and mine was, well, lets just say don't lift the frames in my house or you will find a lot of holes. I always dreamt about that husband who just went in the garage made some noise and came back inside with a fabulous homemade bed or something. This means every time I stop by the house and see him cutting, pounding, hammering, or air nail gunning something I get really excited and visions of headboards go dancing through my head!

I've spent a lot of time looking at my kids and noticing differences. Then I realize that there is so much about Brandon as a baby that I already can't remember. I'm glad I have a few videos of him or I think I would probably forget it all. I hate that memories become fuzzy, and I find myself wondering if that memory was really of Brandon, or Codi, or some imaginary baby I've created in my head.

My sun burn has turned into a nice shade of leather with spots of peeling skin making it look like I have leprosy or some shit. It's all over my chest and arms which are the only two places I can't cover up in this heat. I'm really sexy right now, what with the spotting, and frazzled crazy eyed look on my face and did I mention the SNOT!

I'm trying to convince my son to eat his waffles right now. But when I pulled out the box of mini waffles he saw the picture on the front of all the different things you can do with them. One of them had "cream" (aka whipped cream) and strawberries. He then got pissed off at me because we didn't have any cream. He then told me that he wasn't eating his waffles until we went to the store and bought some cream. I tried explaining that the store was all out of cream which turned into him crossing his arms and stomping off exclaiming loudly about NO THE STORE NOT OUT OF CREAM MOM I WANT TO GO TO THE STORE NOW.

Well shit! Did I tell you guys that I had a raging hormonal 15 year old child trapped in an almost 3 year old childs body? His birthday is coming up and all the SNOT has really hindered going party shopping. I need to buy plates and decor and order his cake from the fancy cake lady here. We are going with a dinosaur theme. Since Brandon's favorite part of cake is frosting (good frosting not grocery store shit) I am having them make him a giant volcano on his cake that is ONLY FROSTING. That will be his piece. Then we will have dinosaurs and rocks and who knows what else they will put on it. My aunt is having a party lady come who makes balloon dinosaurs, and plays games and goody bags and can I tell you that all I'm worried about right now is whether or not any of his preschool friends will RSVP and if so how strange will it be for that to be the first time I meet these kids parents. I found myself putting a lot of effort into his little invites because the sick part of me really wanted to impress the other parents and kinda be like, "my kids invites are better then yours." I'm easily the youngest mom at his pre-school and because of that I feel like I have to bring my "A" game so I don't get trampled by the BMW driving, slack wearing, hair blown out, fancy purse, caked on make up moms there. Every morning they all show up so perfectly put together and I roll in, in my denim shorts and flip flops and I've decided they must all think I'm the nanny because surely no actual mother would go out of the house in flip flops and DENIM!!!!!!

I have to go now. I have to argue with my child about brushing teeth. Every morning I have to fight with him and bribe him to brush his fucking teeth. Every day we are late over teeth. I wish he would just understand that brushing his teeth means that later in life lots of little girlys will want to kiss him!

To add to my frustration, it's hot, and my boobs are big which = boob sweat. I think I should invent a boob deodorant or something, cuz this whole wearing a cute shirt with no bra thing, while it's fun, it is so not worth the boob sweat people!


Dear big mother fucker spider in my garage

Next time don't run so fucking fast so my husband can catch you. I'm tired of being terrified to go in my garage!

I can finally spill the beans

A little over a year ago I encouraged a friend of mine to send a text message. It turned into something neither of us expected. I never thought I would see something so wonderful blossom from one simple text. Now I see two people who are so perfect for each other. (Seriously she doesn't even mind his hunting, and he doesn't mind that she hates to hear no)

Congrats Steph & Eli

Head over and tell her congrats
...and also, start piling on the wedding advice people, I haven't done this shit in a while, whats new and hip in the wedding world.





It appears only one of us is vegetariant

Codi has decided that he doesn't want to be a vegetarian. Minutes later the combination of ribs and some red slurpy led to and EMERGENCY bath session for both boys.

Brandon is still preferring to eat his cheese straight from the tub. This kid loves shredded cheese.

I made a gorgeous whole roasted chicken last night. The recipe is here.

It made me giggle as I was putting the herb butter in. People are always shocked that as a vegetarian I will still cook meat. My favorite part though, is people who will eat meat but still won't touch it. I took a few cooking classes with ladies who refused to touch the raw chicken. There was one who refused to learn to de-bone a whole chicken simply because she wouldn't crack the rib bone. One lady who didn't want to learn to fillet a thigh because she WOULD NEVER be caught dead eating dark meat, because, and I quote, "that is poor people meat."

It would appear I have no problem touching chicken even though I won't eat it.

I discovered one thing this weekend. The fastest way to piss off a baby is to put his brother in a bath and not him. Codi stood on the side of the bath shouting and pointing his finger and slapping the side of the bath all in a defiant anger because his bath was over and brother was in there.

Oh wow I can't believe I almost forgot the biggest news of all. I got a third baby. It's a girl. Want to meet her?

Say hello to Olivia?

If your wondering how I got her let me tell you! First, I had decided I wasn't buying one. Then halfway through the day I decided I had to buy one or I might spontaneously combust. I left the kids at work, got in line and headed to the store. I found a line about a block long, it passed in front of about 6 or more stores and was going down hill. I had waited in line for about 15 minutes and close to 60 more people were behind me. Then my boss (MOM) called me and said the kids were awake I couldn't stand in line anymore. So I did what any logical person would do. I cried. Then I sucked it up, bought a Frosty and went back to work. At 3pm I got off early and got myself back in line. After spending about 45 minutes in line directly in front of the real life version of Comic Book Guy

He had his PSP's and all. He even brought along his son so he could use his credit to buy himself a phone. Suddenly it was my turn and a spunky little girl came running up to me asking "WHO WANTS TO BUY AN IPHONE". I am ashamed to admit I found myself throwing my hands in the air while simultaneously bouncing up and down shouting I DO I DO YAY IPHONE !!!!!!!!!!
Anyway spunky little girl took me to my spot, did a credit check stole my debit card and POOF I was the proud owner of a 16 gig white Iphone named Olivia. She even let me do the opening box ceremony and remove the phone before plugging it in to their computers to finish the process. Within seconds I was walking out chatting on my phone.

I had ported over from Helio and it hadn't finished so I could only call on the new phone and receive calls on the old one.


My husband had been browsing online decided that moving to at&t meant he wanted to get the LG VU phone. I called every store and the only one that had the phone happened to be all the way at the end of Sparks, aka 20 minutes away. We drive out there. Get the phone and start the port. I tell the lady that since we are moving shortly we will go ahead and set up our home phone, cable, and internet with them. I get $100.00 for leaving my current company, a mail in rebate for the full amount of the modem and so on. Also as soon as our new phone is installed we will be on the unity plan meaning any at&t number I call from my cell will be free and not count against my minutes. That means I can call my mom at home and blather away for an hour and not use a single cell phone minute. Well turns out it was the ladies first time doing this so TWO HOURS LATER we were finally leaving the store and heading home.

I shit you not, we walk out, get in the car, buckle our seatbelts and drive about 4 feet when my husband says, "well since my phone was so expensive anyway I SHOULD HAVE JUST GOTTEN AN IPHONE."

People I wanted to kill him. KILL HIM! This from the man who went on an on about not liking the iphone. Not wanting one. Blah blah blah the point is, I saw visions of lines in my head and I was going to put him in front of the car and run his ass over.

It was now 7:30. I called at&t and asked when they closed and they said 8. I decided to forgo returning his phone first and just getting in line at Apple. I would return his phone the next day. I called Ginger and asked if she wanted to waist an hour with me. We got in the store super fast. Got a phone and started the process.


Huh, what? Error?

He says hang on, he has to call At&t he can't get something to work. 4 hours later, not only was his little scanny mabob reading error but the fucking APPLE SERVERS CRASHED. Crashed people. APPLE. Shouldn't they have a goddamn backup? At 11:30 a half hour after closing the manager finally agreed to let us put hold messages on our phones, get claim checks and come back. I went back first thing in the morning on Saturday and after almost 2 hours of error messages finally walked out with my husbands shiny black iphone. I'm going to call his Thor!

Finally I left and headed over to the closest At&t store. I was informed of two things. Thing 1: Since they weren't the store that originally sold my husbands phone, and it was pricey they didn't want to take the loss on the return. And Thing 2: No matter what store I went to I would have to wait for a refund check since I paid cash and none of the drawers had enough cash. I called the girl who had helped me in Sparks and she was pissed that they wouldn't help me. I drove another 20 fucking minutes out to sparks and spent the better part of an hour getting my plan fixed, the other phone returned, the case for the husbands phone and what not. Finally the lady felt so bad that I had to wait for a check she applied a student discount to my cell phone bill. Then on top of that, since my husbands phone wasn't ported yet, they applied a $25.00 credit to my account for the trouble.

Moral of the story. I'm cool, I have an Iphone now. I work it like a pro. I can't figure out how to download a ringtone for the life of me, and if you live in my area, go see Rita at the Los Altos At&t mobile store!

Oh, the other moral of the story is,


Summer bouillabaisse (or fish stew as a friend calls it)

Recipe can be found here.

For those of you looking for an update on the clusterfuck house we took a break yesterday to let the water heater fill back up to see if that is what is causing the leak. Then the husband started a softball tourney and my dad has been working 83957 hour days so we just took a little break. Mom and I are going to pick out carpet for the husbands game room and to look at something call marmoleum which is an earth friendly click in flooring for the kitchen...think 1970's school cafeteria flooring...it's pretty rad! If we can find a good piece of carpet I'll have pictures of one complete room for ya'll soon!


Let's talk Preschool

About 3 weeks ago I signed Brandon up for preschool. I briefly mentioned it here but I didn't say to much because I wanted to wait a few weeks to see how I really felt about it all.

In the beginning it was hard. They always say it's harder on the parent then the kid but I really think it was hard on both of us. The first week Brandon cried every day at school. He cried the most when he woke up from naps and Rob nor I were there. Then, to crush my heart more he would come home and say, "I cry at school mom, cuz you almost lost me." Thats what he thought. He thought I just lost him and wasn't coming to find him. It killed me and I honestly almost didn't pay for the second week.

Now, he barely gives me a kiss when I drop him off, and is already across the playground with his posse before I can even call out an "I love you". He has friends now and talks excitedly about what he did at school. He loves the TumbleBus and recognizes it every Wednesday when we drive up to the school. He's had two field trips and done countless art projects. I think my favorite part is that he is now eating new foods. He wanted to be like the other kids so he ate like them and now he likes chicken and mashed potatoes, and all kinds of other foods he never wanted before. He has friends (they are the bad gang) and they play together each day. He loves his teacher and talks about her every night.

I would have to say my only complaint at all is the sickness. He's already had one really bad cold and today was sent home with pink eye. Ugggggg!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I think Brandon is getting a gazillion times more smart, and I have to be honest when I say, I'm not sure if that is a good thing or not, because now the little shit can totally outsmart me and totally back talk me!

It is still hard every day and I'm just thankful I picked a school with a video camera so I can watch his nap, or see him play and check in with my own eyeballs and know he is fine.

Demolition Derby

Yesterdays theme was demolition derby and mold discovery.


Book review grief

First of all I didn't know this book has had 3 different covers. Odd! The point of this is, I don't really know how to do book reviews with out spoiling the book. There are so many things I want to talk about for instance, what I would have liked to see happen, what I feel was left out, and what I loved. Honestly it is hard to even summarize the book with out giving away part of what happens.

I love the book. I've read it twice now, both times I loved it. I read it the first time when I was much younger but felt like rereading it again. I enjoy Wally Lamb, I would like to re-read This Much I Know is True, also by him. I have always wished I had friends who read as much as me, or at least who read the same things as me so we could read together and then discus the book. I finally thought I could discuss books on here, until I realized last time I totally blew the ending.

So. I liked the book. It was good. There were a few things I want to know about the ending but they are things I don't even think most people would worry about. I recommend the book, it's a good read, not a funny read, a serious one. I love it! Go get it, read it and then we can all talk about it!

Sunburns bring out the good memories

Did I ever tell you guys about that one really bad sunburn I got a few years ago? You know the one that made me extra intelligent? No? Well let me! A few years back I went to the lake. I came back so burned I might as well have been purple. The problem was this left me with a stupid peeling face. I've always been that girl who picked the dead skin off and then got mad at the spots of different colored non burned skin that was hiding under the peel. Every year I did that. But this year my whole face was peeling all the way into my hair line, and suffice it to say, I WAS PISSED.

I sat at work pondering what to do for hours. I would get up look in the bathroom mirror, get irritated with the skin and walk away. Then I would pout at my desk for a bit and then start the process over. Finally I saw the answer to it all. I work for a heating company which means we have lots of duct tape laying around. I grabbed a big roll took off to the bathroom and went to town. Had you been a fly on the wall you would have seen me in there pulling off face size strips of tape smashing them onto my face and then peeling them off as if I was getting an eyebrow wax. DEAD SKIN BE GONE!

If you had been a fly on the wall about five minutes later you would have heard me screeching in pain from pulling skin of that wasn't ready to come off. Now, all the sensitive burned skin was just sitting there unprotected and ON FUCKING FIRE. So, I wisely slathered some lotion on.


I wanted to die. The pain was awful. Just awful! Just when I thought it couldn't get any worse it did. The new fresh skin that was no longer burned but just sensitive ended up getting burned a few days later creating new peeling skin on top of old peeling skin and essentially 3 different skin tones. The jackass part is that my stupid self seriously went back in, duct taped my face off and repeated the same fucking excruciating pain!

This year I'm staring at the peeling skin saying fuck it, you can stay there forever because if I even touch one little piece I know I'll be back in that bathroom with the fucking duct tape, and people, the idea of baby nails scraping freshly ripped off skin....well, it doesn't sound fun.


This week on rebuild my clusterfuck house

The theme of the day was SLEDGEHAMMER!

Also I added a subscribe mabob so you can get updates when I post and write about this clusterfuck of a house!

UUMOMMA, no dead bodies yet!


Insert witty blog here

I owe you guys a good blog. One of those witty 4th of July family recap blogs or whatever. But, you're not going to get it this morning. Nope. Too busy. Also. Too sunburned! Ouch! I went bathing suit shopping before all this and settled on a nice respectable one piece. It was strapless which actually covered my boobs more then a v-neck bathing suit with straps. It also left me with one hell of a fucking awesome tan line. Now when I wear any shirt that doesn't go straight across my boobs you see a little A shaped white area sticking out. It's super sexy! My whole body is burned. I can't understand why I totally put my sunscreen on. As soon as I saw I was pinking up and a little tender to the touch you can bet I remembered my sunscreen then. It seems it was to late or some bullshit like that. My arms, chest, legs and ass are all burned. 1/2 of my knees are burned but they each have a 2" in diameter circle that is BRIGHT WHITE and let me tell you how fucking much that shit boggles me. I've got a bunch of photos to upload but everything hurts right now, like this hot ass lap top on my burned up legs.

On that note. Know what really burns me? When you pour your first cup of coffee in the morning and then have to just sit and stare at it waiting for the motherfucker to cool off, all the while cursing your sleepy eyes and wondering just how fucking long its going to be before you can drink it. Seriously why do coffee pots brew so fucking hot? Why can't they brew a nice room temperature coffee that you can actually drink right away with out adding a burned roof your mouth to your list of burned body parts!

I'll leave you with this, Codi obviously had a great time this weekend!


Mental overload

I've only had access to my new house for two days and already I'm on a mental over load. The honest part is, that since I usually have a small baby strapped to me I'm not doing much physical labor but nonetheless my mind is in a constant state of WHAT THE FUCK! Don't worry I spent my day yesterday cleaning up my own share of puke and poop on my own home front...SEE THAT PEOPLE I CLEANED IT!!!!!!!! Sigh. How on earth people just allow stuff like that to sit int heir home and rot is beyond me. I can't get the smell out of my nose. I'm starting to wonder if I can just shove some soap up there and call it good.

My only comfort and solace has been my SHINY NEW WHOLE FOODS STORE! I've been stocking up on good produce and trying to cook as much as possible to make me feel a little better about this whole situation. You know, in my head it sounds like this, ha, my house is clean and I cook, take that fuckers! Anyway I picked up some fresh heirloom tomatoes this week at Whole Foods and replicated the recipe I tried on opening day only I added in some avocado because I was feeling like I needed some fat!It turned out great and the fresh basil really made me feel clean and happy even if it was only for a second. I posted the recipe here.

Yesterday I spent the day in Tahoe on the beach and today I'm sporting skin in a nice shade of RED! Codi thought the dirt tasted great and nothing I did seemed to deter him from shoveling in fistfuls of sand at lightening speed. At one point I tried rinsing his mouth out and he pitched such a fit I finally gave up and left him sitting in a pile of sand happily cramming it into his milk hole. He still has dirt in his ears! Brandon got mad when we left and spent the rest of the day telling me he "just wanted to go back to the beach mom!" The water was warm and refreshing, I was a little sad at how low it was this year though. Friday morning we are leaving to go back to Tahoe until Sunday so I will be MIA for a few days taking some much needed beach time. I can't wait. I was really looking forward to taking Brandon to my favorite little local ice cream and fry shop while we were there but when I drove by I noticed my favorite place is now some high end hoity toity kind of place to eat and my heart sunk a little, no, A LOT! The place was called Joni's. It was the kind of place that had great burgers, salads and sandwiches, and fresh cut fries served with an extra helping of greasy deliciousness. Ginger and I would always drive to the beach for the day then walk across to Joni's get our fries and some ice cream and then sit happily in the sand enjoying our food. I feel like it is the final official end of an era. Like my time as a young care free beach going girl are gone and replaced with HOITY TOITY restaurants and rush rush rush!

I decided I'm going to take this time to share one of my favorite memories of Tahoe, and probably one of Gingers least favorite. About the time I turned 16 my friends and I all started driving to Tahoe for the day most Saturdays. One Saturday Ginger and I went, and took our friend Megan. We were hanging out on the beach when (forgive me if my memory of this isn't 100% accurate) we were approached by a couple HOT guys to buy some acid on sugar cubes. Megan and I said OKAY like smart intelligent young ladies and coughed up the cash. We popped our cubes and waited, and waited and waited. Finally convinced nothing was going to happen we got up and went for a walk. Upon returning to the beach we came to a 2 foot drop down to the beach. Megan fell off, and I spent 5 minutes terrified of the drop (step down) convinced it was more like 20 feet. I believe Ginger had to end up carrying me down the drop off. The next thing we knew our towels were moving and everything was fucking hilarious. I got the brilliant idea to go buy stickers for my truck and put them on. We had a great day and drove home. However, as Ginger tells I spent the entire drive going 14 miles an hour constantly slowing down because I was convinced I was speeding. At one point she opened the back sliding window and put her head outside because she couldn't handle our giggling anymore. She also tells me there was quite a traffic jam behind me. It seems that since I was convinced I was "speeding" I felt no need to pull over and let cars pass. I guess at some point I also stopped in the middle of the street to retrieve a book I saw laying there that didn't even belong to me. I spent the rest of the night wide awake on the phone with the guy who would become my boyfriend, with him asking me if I was even going to remember that he had just asked me to be his girlfriend the next day (I didn't). To this day Ginger still gets mad at me about that. I laughed every single time I looked at my truck though after that because all of my brand new stickers were totally side ways. It seems that what I thought was straight and what was really straight that day were two opposite things. The best part is Ginger knew they were crooked but she was so sick of my ass she just let me go right ahead and do it!




In case you thought it couldn't get worse

LinkLast night I made another visit to the house. It got worse. Go see the photos!

Dear husband

I would be lying if I said there aren't days I'm jealous you get to just go to work with out getting the kids ready. Today is one of those days. Walking into the bathroom to find your almost 3 year old covered in poop from head to toe along with the toilet, and whole roll of toilet paper, well, it makes me jealous of you. Finding the bathroom rug with a big pile of poop on it is far less fun then going to work at 6am. Realizing that your son tripped and fell while climbing to poop and then tried to wipe the poop off with a bran new roll of toilet paper, his shorts, and the toilet seat, makes me think I might even enjoy going to work at 4am. Having to plunge the toilet and then rush your kid to the shower makes me think, I wouldn't even mind working nights. Then, walking out, to find your youngest has now puked everywhere because he was crying so hard from not being held makes me think working int he 100 degree weather would feel a lot like relaxing on the beach. Plunging the toilet again because all the poop and toilet paper still won't flush, then cramming a shit covered rug into my clean washer, makes me wonder why I never got a job like oh, I dunno, being the Queen. Because I'm positive, the Queen of England never never never had to clean shit out from between her 3 year olds toes!

PS Having to pull the baby out of the car seat just to wipe a second helping of puke off him...makes me still jealous!


Come see my move

We are moving. I explain it better here, come over and look at the horrors we found today when we opened the doors to our new home. Welcome to my own personal hell.


Things I've learned from Craigslist

I'm searching for some new furniture on Craigslist for my big move coming up. Among the things I've been browsing, a new kitchen table with more then 4 chairs, a king bedroom set with an actual headboard and more then one dresser, and a couch and over sized chair with ottoman. NO I don't want to buy ALL of these things, unless each thing is selling for about $100.00. I'm basically looking and which ever one I find first wins. All of my furniture was bought when I was 13-18 years old needless to say the vast majority of it is pretty old, or just not keeping up with my current style. FYI the theme in my house is "nothing matches" so I'm not even being really particular, I just want something newish, comfy, well taken care of, and something that will actually last a while. I've learned a few things while browsing Craigslist.

1. "Comfy" anything is code for, this item is an old ragged piece of shit that is probably sagging in the middle.

2. "Very nice" means, sure, it was very nice, back in 1976!

3. "Antique means" This was probably made in 1980 but if I write "antique" more people will open my link.

4. "Really new", also found in variations of, "like new", "hardly used", and "only sits in guest room", this means it will be outdated, dusty, and funny looking.

5. "modern" means NO ONE is going to buy this and the rest of the world is going to wonder what the fuck you were thinking when you bought that

6. "Great condition" means they are posting a picture of the couch with out the giant rip in it

7. They only have furniture you are not looking for. Seriously I've found 5980836 queen, twin, full size beds and not one fucking king size furniture set.

8. If you happen to be looking for an armoir big enough to hold your TV, just stop your TV is to big. You over there, yours might fit, but, probably not because that would be to fucking easy and make you too happy!

9. If it looks grey, it's really blue. If it looks brown, thats probably dirt. If it looks green, it's probably mold, and no, those are cute little dots, it's probably mouse shit!

10. If they list it as "must sell" thats because NO ONE WANTS TO BUY IT!

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